


Butterfly Caught

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Challenge Response, Gap Filler, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV First Person, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-05
Updated: 2003-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filler for Episode 303 - Brian + Michael + Drugs + Babylon = Angst Ahead</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterfly Caught

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at fanfic. To Kris/D.O.T. for the never ending "crutch" and always lending an ear; Paula/pellsfan for always willing to read the mess in every fic writer's head and managing to STILL like us because of it. You really, really like us!!! HUGS AND FOREHEAD MESHES to the wonderful folks at the Yahoo B/M Group who's support I'd be lost without... Who the hell needs therapy?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
**Butterfly Caught**   
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

**BABYLON** : 

“ _ **WHETHER IT WAS THE MUSIC... OR BRIAN’S SECRET BLEND OF ELEVEN HERBS AND SPICES... OR BECAUSE IT WAS... LIKE HE SAID... THE WAY IT USED TO BE. EVERYTHING SEEMED TO VANISH UNTIL THERE WAS JUST THE TWO OF US UP THERE... ALONE.”**_

 

 

I wonder if he’s feeling the same way I do? He’s got me seven ways from horny and I’m feeling everything all at once. My heart’s on edge because of the immediate rush from the hits we just took. The music’s pumping in the background. Vibrating our very foundation. Forcing us to move to the hypnotic rhythm. The primal scent wafting between our perspiring bodies overwhelms the nostrils. 

I love him to pieces because he knows me... inside and out. Warts and all. Still hangs with me when the world seems to reject everything I want to do and be. I love him, period. No questions asked. 

I’m imperfect. I’m an ass. But normally, I’m a fool. 

_Why hadn’t anyone warned me what this would be like?_ I feel like my heart could pump right out of my chest. It hurts to even breathe. 

He’s gyrating his hips toward mine. Dancing for me. With me. He’s giving me exactly what I need right now. _**Him.**_ And him touching me. He knows how to touch me. How to caress my fevered skin. To create the right kind of friction between us to transcend any sexual need. 

I want him... I do. I want him because of what he does for me. What he does to me when he’s near. His smells and his laughter. The smiles and the brightness of his eyes. All for me. 

I like the battles between us. The struggles. Yin and Yang. Push and Pull. I can’t get over the sense that we were meant to be. Destined to be... 

Like two souls entwined. Communicating beyond words. Lost in each other... 

I feel the push of his heated thigh in between my flexing ones. I know he’s probably been hard, like this, for hours. He’s flexible in my arms as our bodies sway... to-n-fro and back-n-forth. Our lips find each other like they’ve known the way for years. This is an old song... a familiar tune we seem to be able to dance to while in each other’s presence. 

I truly do love him. Everyone’s beaten that lame stick over my head for years. Only now is when I come to realize my biggest fear will come true... that I can never have him. He will never be _all_ mine. 

_Don’t we always hurt the ones we love? Why should this time be any different?_ I surely don’t mean to. None of us have time to wake up and make a quick, randomized blacklist of people to screw with. Neither does he. 

Despite our deep kissing, I feel his lips trying to force themselves further into me. Where he can get lost in the feeling. Where I can image my fantasies. Where we can come together sharing higher heights. Floating through the moment. 

The music is all filler. We’ve lost the tempo so many long minutes ago. There’s a rhythm between us creating its own power. Our bodies are the instruments. 

He’s my muse. The reason for living. For surviving. For breathing the last breath he’s trying to steal from me. 

I’m trapped. I’m caught. Like a delicate butterfly. 

I’m the one who has to pull us apart. Our foreheads fall back in familiar form as if pulled by some unknown magnetic force. Inexplicable and constant. 

“What’s wrong?”

The question’s kind of ridiculous. 

“I needed my lungs back.”

Those lips found mine. Searching, barely touching, the puffed, pliable surface. 

“I can breathe... for you.”

The words whisper across my flushed cheek. Our arms come around one another. On the circular, single raised stage our show is back in re-runs. For all of Babylon to see. 

I get a “kick” out of the attention. My one proudest moment. I’ve never had one of those. 

He’s _mine... for now... until..._

I can’t think about that now. I want him to know. I need him to feel what I feel, for once. I can’t suffer alone. 

I don’t want to hurt him, like he’s hurt me in the past. 

He’s pure temptation. Like a seductive scent that lures you closer into another person’s space. It overpowers you, so you overpower them. Craving just the chance to spend a moment with them. 

No one exists below us as the blaring noise from the collection of speakers continually plays note after note. We haven’t noticed any changes the DJ’s made. The twists and turns of our bodies couple us into a safe cocoon only we are a part of... an “us”... 

“Take me out of here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Outta here.”

“Yeah, got that...”

There was some other question behind the comment. 

“Good.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere but here. I want to be... _alone_...”

“Okay...”

The same stretched echo lasted from before. 

I think he was hurt. Crushed. At least, I knew he didn’t want to be alone. And he didn’t want me to come down off my “high” alone. 

“... with you.”

That got him. He smiled that dazzling grin... so breathtaking... and we took off. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
_**Later... Much...** _   
**THE LOFT** : 

 

He’s wasted. I’m done in. 

We both could collapse right where we’re standing and sleep for weeks. 

I know we’ll spoon, like usual... fighting for a closeness that can’t be denied. Speaking in volumes in words we can never express. Without revealing our secret identities. Only to one another. 

Those two steps seem to take forever as we make our way up them and over to the bed. We, literally, fall onto the huge mattress, causing the other to bounce slightly. No one bothered to turn on the lights, except for the murky blue ones that constantly glow over the headboard. 

I’m on my back. He’s on his. We’re getting giddy over stupid shit. Especially the way each move we make creates a chilled tickle over our bodies. Like when we snuck pot into the balcony at the movie theater. 

_How the hell did we get here? Who the fuck drove? Or did we?_ Maybe we took the bus... or walked the blocks... 

Hey, who the fuck cares? We’re _here... now... together..._

Our hands stretch across the sheets. The connection we thrive on revives us. 

I’ve secretly wanted _this... my one desire... him... in bed..._

He’s been my fantasy man since the day we met. He doesn’t know it. _Would he think me pathetic if I told him?_

I shut my eyes _hoping... waiting... anticipating..._

The plush lips began their trail over my temple, across my furrowed brow and to the other temple. _Christ!_ I’m a mess. I’m so hard I could come right now, but that would be rude and make me look easy. 

The warm breath shakes me to the core. Like the sun’s rays on a balmy Spring day. The brilliance seemingly touches even all those hidden parts. Sculpturing the fine shapes and intricate planes. 

The tiny pink tongue has escaped to moisten every tiny patch of skin. I want him to rip off my shirt. Rip off my pants. I need the skin against skin. Flesh to my flesh. The saltiness of my skin has become like a second drug as his hands flitter about to begin the slow process of undoing button after button. 

I feel him grinning against the texture of my exposed flesh. It’s a heady rush. He’s at the V-opening of my shirt. I can feel my heart beginning to crack open. I can’t be found out this soon. 

“Get off!” I push him backwards.

He’s come too close... like before. He should know better. _This can’t happen!_

He’s pulled his knees up, arranging his arms to wrap around them. 

“ _Christ! What the fuck is wrong?!_ ” He’s screaming to a mournful silence.

I push my body down the bed to sit, hunched over on the side. My “high” has worn off. I’m coming down on so much emotion. 

“I just... I can’t.” I’m too choked up to continue.

I’m frightened he’ll get frustrated with me and want to leave. I don’t want that. I’d die if he leaves me now. My hand falls behind me to reach out for him, saying so much in the one move. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” He’s on his knees, crawling toward me, cradling me from the back to his chest. He’s surrounding me with his encompassing radiance. “It’s all right. You’re not in this alone. It happens everyday... to anyone of us. Even me.”

He’s trying to make me feel better by clumping his own heart in with mine. He’s too sweet... and kind. I don’t deserve him. 

“But not to me.” I try to turn and look at him over my shoulder to see his expression.

He’s rubbing a bunched fist over the area of my heart, like he’s ridding me of bad indigestion. His hand sneaks under the material of my open shirt to cup over the protruding nipple and smooth the rock hard muscles. 

“I’ll beat the shit out of Justin if you want me to.” His deep, calming voice is more sympathetic, than boastful.

_Shit!_ He knew... 

“This isn’t high school, Mikey... and, unfortunately, the kid might be able to win over any battle with you.”

I didn’t like bringing up the bashing incident out of lightness but I knew I wouldn’t have to go far for Michael to get my meaning. 

“ _So he wins on a slight technicality?_ That doesn’t seem fair.”

I reached up a hand to grab onto his forearm. Holding onto him for dear life. Like on the hospital rooftop when my son was born. “No.” 

The silence was deafening, but we filled it with our cuddling and our effect on one another. 

“ _Does it feel like you thought it would?_ ”

“No...” I can barely get the word past my lips as I’m lost in the feelings he’s trying to get out of me. He’s a master manipulator.

_**My Mikey. My friend. My life. My world.** _

I close my eyes tightly, because to look at him now will rip me to shreds. My heart displayed on his beautiful features. He comprehends this kind of hurt because I’ve put him here too many times. Caged him beyond freedom. Given him every reason to leave, yet he can’t plan his great escape. He’s actually gotten comfortable in this freaky prison. 

I want to set him free, because I know he will always come back. To go home. Home to Ben. The man who is everything I’m not. Everything I will never be. Yet, everything I want to be... for him. 

The pain in my chest is overwhelming. I’m no longer worried about sexual satisfaction as much as surviving my fragile heart and keeping it protected.  
  
Somehow I know it will be safe in his hands. 

He’s drawing his body heat away from me to cross back to the wall above my headboard. He’s stacking piles of pillows like a Harem Princess. He turns to sit and opens his arms wide. 

“Come here.”

I can’t make one move because I know right where I’ll end up... _right where I belong_. 

“You... ass... here. _Now!_ ”

I obeyed only because his voice sounded eerie and serious. 

As I crept over the mattress, Michael patiently waiting for me to approach... I wondered how my life would have been shaped had he _not_ been there from day one. _What if he was more like me and not my opposite in every way? Could he easily give and take away his affections just like Justin had been able to do?_

Justin thought he knew everything. Inexperience is a fool’s crutch. Dedicating the time to learn a person’s traits was much more difficult. I was a waste of his time. Not worth the effort. 

Love is my Kryptonite. To think my power could dissolve that easily. 

No matter what, it still fucking hurt. _Bastard!_

The closer I got to Michael, the more I became weakened and drained. Once I was hunched over him, on my knees... prepared to avoid the pain, I felt my body sink onto his. He entwined his frame around mine giving me the quiet comfort he knew I needed. Would always know I needed and freely gave... unconditionally, and with words unspoken. 

He should have boasted. Said “I told you so.” I would have... but that’s not Michael’s style. 

He’s different. He’s special. Precious. 

He’s head professor of Crippling Pain 101. I want him to teach me how to forget. I need him to make me remember. Lessons learned. 

For what few hours we have left... he’s mine. As much as he’s willing to sacrifice. Before something inside of him recalls that some other warm body waits for him, elsewhere. 

He’s soothing my back, rubbing down the slope of my spine when I feel the first droplet on my skin. Silent tears have been falling down his cheeks. He’s shut his eyes in hiding. He doesn’t want me to know. 

He’s crying for me. I’m the one with the broken heart and Michael was the poor sap who cried. 

Twisted, but God-damn, fucking lovable! 

I adjusted my body to take possession of his lips, again. He’s about to cry harder knowing how much his heartache means to me. I catch a drop off the edge of his chin with my fingertip and suck the wetness off. Like the tear held every damage done to Michael’s forgiving heart, I could taste any emotion he ever hid from me. His waterlogged eyes forced me to let go of my pain. Release the heartbreak. 

We stared at one another for what seemed like hours before the untouched emotions long buried unearthed themselves. Some probably for my Pops, Jack Kinney. For moments I had missed as a child. For love I had never receive until my one and, true, only. And for my one friend who effortlessly stood strong by my side. Championing me while I completely fell on my face into some dark abyss. 

In Michael's safe keeping, I could release all my fears into the night. Our tears, our faces, our lips and our foreheads meshing while the early morning hours surfaced beyond the Pittsburgh skyline. 

_Trapped... like a butterfly caught..._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
_**Later... Early Morning...** _   
**THE LOFT** : 

 

When I woke, he was gone. I barely even knew what time it was as I lay there... still warm from Michael’s essence. Reaching out for empty space needing to be filled. 

I was used to those mornings, after nights with strangers, but with Michael the loss was defining and poignant. 

I wanted to sink deeper into the pillow. Lost in the long ago dreams of youth. Wanting what I could never have. I wanted Michael back to help me along this lonely road of sorrow. I closed my eyes to the aches beginning in certain parts of my awakening body. 

Before he had left, Michael had pulled the single sheet over me. I was touched that he had bothered to spend the time tucking me in. I felt loved and... adored. Treasured. On my stomach, I turned my face into the pillow, using my hands, flat on the bed, to push my torso up. 

I glanced to my left where Michael had been. The area still held his body imprint. His leftover smell was intoxicating. 

Something laying on the pillow’s surface caught my eye. I took the item in my hand while I twisted to lay on my back. 

When I re-opened my palm, I noticed the intricately folded piece of paper. 

Origami. _When had Michael had the opportunity to learn this art?_

My hazy eyes began to refocus on the shape the paper took as I tried to undo the damage my clasped hand had done... 

It was... a butterfly. 

**~*~THE END...**

 


End file.
